


sweet dreams are made of these (who am i to disagree)

by Peruse



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Blackmail, But only a little, Cock Warming, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Explicit Photographs, Finger Fucking, Frottage, Light Choking, M/M, Non-Consensual Somnophilia, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rape/Non-con Elements, Throat Fucking, but better safe than sorry, but nothing with blackmail is featured in the fic, revenge porn, specifically getaway takes pictures of a non-consenting Rodimus, technically Non-Consensual Voyeurism, unauthorized photos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-17
Updated: 2020-07-17
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:40:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25344823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Peruse/pseuds/Peruse
Summary: Rodimus was a loud mech; rambunctious, eager, disastrous and unwieldy. Luckily, for Getaway, he was so much better behaved when he was in recharge.
Relationships: Getaway/Rodimus, Getaway/Rodimus | Rodimus Prime, one-sided Getaway/Rodimus | Rodimus Prime
Comments: 9
Kudos: 58





	sweet dreams are made of these (who am i to disagree)

**Author's Note:**

> If you like more of this and wanna chat or talk about it, or have ideas, hmu on Twitter @Tectonic420

For all of his faults, Rodimus was a beautiful mech. Getaway could concede that; he was bright colors, intoxicating enthusiasm, misplaced charisma, polished panels, and quickfire grins. He wasn’t the smartest mech on that ship, but Rodimus never let something like that stop him and that was, arguably, something to be admired. Of course, Getaway would be a hypocrite for criticizing _that_ particular flaw. Not when it meant that Rodimus hadn’t changed his habsuite’s lock-code in a vorn.

The door slid opened at his touch and Getaway stared into the habsuite. Other than the listless glow of orange biolights, it was dark. The fluorescent lights from the hallway lit the room from behind him, it created harsh curves and outlined hidden shadows. When Getaway angled his body to be less of a buffer, it cast the room into a loose wash of color.

Rodimus didn’t flinch.

Getaway’s very spark perked up at the sight; Rodimus truly was pretty, or well, he was _always_ pretty, but his true beauty shone when he was lost in the haze of recharge. And Rodimus was _such_ a deep sleeper. 

His face was lax and almost soft; innocent, if he didn’t know better. The speedster’s venting was even and slow, his plating loose, and he was half-splayed across his berth; his limbs were wild, just barely sunk into his berth, one leg draped against the sheets and the other crumbled near his chest. It was a pose that showed off both his panels _and_ his flexibility. 

It was a dirty, perverted image and Getaway wasted no time taking a picture; one of many for the night. For how dramatic and outlandish Rodimus could be while he was awake, how brash and unwieldy, his body truly showed the spark’s desires in the night. His optics followed the tantalizing lines and curves of red thighs up to his narrow hips. Getaway could see a tease of wires and tantalizing strips of protoform, always a show off; and Getaway’s fingers itched to follow. And nights like these were never about restraint.

Getaway stalked forward and the door locked behind him. He paid it no notice and stopped just shy of that trim waist and preened in appreciation at the sleek frame in front of him. 

Rodimus’ biolights were still sluggish, a good sign that he was deep in recharge; Getaway traced the lights with deft fingers and Rodimus twitched.

“That’s it, good boy. Shh, it’s okay.” Getaway murmured slowly. His servo crept up Rodimus’ chest, encircling his Autobrand and reaching out to run kind, soothing strokes down the other mech’s back. After a long moment, the mech’s face slowly sank back into the numbness of recharge and Getaway resumed his petting. 

The night was still early and, habitually, Rodimus usually tended to stir two or three times during recharge on average; if he was getting it out of the way early, Getaway wouldn’t object. The MTO’s fingers danced around the other mech’s frame, following transformation seams and spinning circles into his cute spoiler before he moved to gently caress the recharging mech’s helm. He gave a light swipe to the sharp points of Rodimus’ crest and moved to trace down the seams of his captain’s face.

The taller mech hummed lightly, both to himself and to his host, as he followed the smooth plating past Rodimus’ dark optics and to his lips. They were agonizingly soft and when Getaway pushed, they bounced back instantly. The blue of his fingers was a direct contrast to Rodimus’ silver and he smeared his fingers around the mech’s bottom lip just to admire the color.

Getaway dug his thumb further into the speedster’s lower lip and slowly pressed down until he could drag his fingers against the mech’s denta. It was an awkward angle, incredibly unattractive and unflattering and Getaway snickered to himself and took a picture. He pulled back just enough to flick that bottom lip and barely waited a klik before he pushed it again.

He could feel the rush of energon under his fingers; the way the metal heated up and expanded, and Getaway desperately wished that he had a mouth under his mask. The MTO moved his servo to rest his digits on Rodimus’ cheek instead. He stared down at the smaller mech’s lips and moved the tip of his index finger across the bridge of the mech’s nose down to his cheeks. His trail was slow and unhurried, almost lazy; there was no reason to rush after all. Sweet, gentle praises fell from his lips and he dropped his other servo lower down to Rodimus’ panel. 

Rodimus didn’t even twitch.

Getaway spread his servo out and dug the heel of his palm roughly against that bright red pane, he forced his servo down in a near bust of sparks before raising it to graze his fingers in easy, mindless shapes. Rodimus always worked best with a little pain before the pleasure and Getaway was nothing if not a quick learner; and he had plenty of opportunity to learn. He kept his fingers moving and slowly transitioned into precise, focused circles and stared unabashedly at Rodimus’ face. 

The MTO cooed soft, pedantic sweet nothings, and slowly traced the lines of tension and unease down Rodimus’ face until they smoothed out back to pacified numbness. If that was attempt number two, then this was his lucky day. Getaway took a long moment to admire the fine details of his Rodimus’ face, the emptiness and blank comfort of recharge, before quick fingers re-found their path back to silver lips.

This time there was no hesitation as he ground his knuckles across Rodimus’ lips, they were as indulgent and plush as before and Getaway let out a low groan. He pulled and pushed, rolling his knuckles up to fingertips and back down with bruising pressure. There was no resistance and Getaway pushed in deeper and shoved three fingers into Rodimus’ mouth. His lips parted easily around the intrusion and it was warm and soft and oh-so inviting and Getaway was happy to take full advantage.

He stretched his fingers, brushing both sides of Rodimus’ cheeks, swirled his them around and gave a quick, rough pull to his glossa. Drool gathered around the corners of his mouth and around Getaway’s fingers and inched down slowly, it wet his knuckles and Getaway took another picture. With a low moan, Getaway increased the pressure on the other mech’s panel as he continued to pinch and prod and pull at the speedster’s lips.

His fingers felt almost too big as he shoved Rodimus’ glossa to play with the soft receptors underneath and they knocked into denta when he rushed to grab that glossa; he pinned it to the roof of Rodimus’ mouth and sunk his fingers into the soft metal. Getaway’s vents were roaring as he let out a low groan as he let go and scraped his fingertips down the mech’s denta. He pressed his knuckles to the inside of his lower lip and it bulged out and Getaway laughed. He rolled his shoulder and with a quick jolt of his wrist, knocked Rodimus’ helm to the side, it opened his mouth that much more. The taller mech took the opportunity to hook his pinky into the corner of Rodimus’ lips and stretched until he could feel resistance.

“That’s it, shh. Good job. I’m so proud. You’re so pretty. Shh.”

Getaway kept up his sweet praises as he pushed Rodimus’ glossa in circles, rubbed against his denta, and jabbed his knuckles against the bottom of his mouth. More drool escaped past his scrunched lips and Getaway took another picture of the mech’s overcrowded mouth. Rodimus looked so _good_ with his cheeks stuffed to the brim, sloppy and messy and nothing like the confident mech he normally saw. 

The MTO pulled his fingers out and squeezed the speedster’s lips together crudely, he rubbed his thumb roughly across and vented out burning air. His hips humped the bed before he pushed himself back and let out a low groan before he shoved all three fingers back into Rodimus’ mouth.

Getaway forced his thumb into the other corner of Rodimus’ mouth and pulled, and instantly focused the tension that broke out near the speedster’s optics. He relaxed his fingers, pulled out his thumb, and rubbed his knuckles across the top row of the smaller mech’s dema and snickered to himself when that tension sank back down. Getaway vented lowly as he extended his thumb again, but there was no response and he let out a longer, less quiet groan as he pushed his fingers further down that soft, pliant throat. 

Rodimus swallowed around him easily and Getaway bent down to mutter more praise directly into his audial. The mech swallowed again at the pressure and Getaway paraded more nonsense and rubbed his thumb in loose circles against Rodimus’ stretched cheek. He raked his fingers lightly down his smooth internal tubing and the mech’s cables contracted around him again. Getaway took another picture at the sight. 

More drool was escaping down the corners of Rodimus’ stretched cheeks, but his venting was still easy and slow. Getaway couldn’t be more proud. Rodimus really was so _so_ eager to please; it was a good look on him. And for the moment, Getaway was more than happy to let his fingers rest where they were.

His own spike was pinging him for attention, after all, there was something _else_ that he could shove down his intake...but he redirected his attention back to his other servo and once again palmed the metal under him. 

While Rodimus hadn’t unlocked his panel yet, - and Getaway _could_ admit that he had gotten distracted - it was blazing hot. He left his fingers in the Rodimus’ pliant tubing and focused his efforts on that cherry red panel. He curled his fingers into a light fist, scrapped down the edges and gave a sharp knock. It folded back instantly, as if on command; as always, Rodimus continued to be a _much_ better listener when he was in recharge. However, his fingers merely rested against the soft mesh and Getaway stared down at the lax frame as he decided his options.

His engine idled as he hummed to himself in indecision and ran a single blue finger down that pretty little slit. It was a bit wet, but not soaking, the speedster was barely revved up, but that could always change in an instant. He ran his finger down again and again.

_Choices, choices._

He had already overloaded in that cute little valve last night, and as fun as that was, he didn’t feel like having to sooth Rodimus back to recharge again – even if that dazed, ditzy expression was oh-so-lovely; the video was never as good as the real thing. Rodimus swallowed around his fingers again and Getaway muttered more nonsense into the air.

His spike sent out another request and Getaway didn’t bother to deny it. His panel popped open and his spike fell across the smaller mech’s biolights. Getaway pulled his servo back from Rodimus’ valve and a trail of lubricant followed, it shined in the light and Getaway pulled it slowly until it snapped. The MTO leaned forward and rubbed the mess across the speedster’s biolights and plating. It didn’t take much for it to sink into his seams and coat his wires and Getaway took an extra moment to polish it in and gave it a low caress when it blended in with the rest of that shiny plating.

With a low curse, he shifted his footing, planted his free servo for balance against the berth and shuffled across the recharging frame awkwardly. It was undignified and gave a low sigh of relief when his spike finally, _finally_ rested on top of Rodimus’ valve.

The temptation was intoxicating; It was soft, warm, inviting, empty, no doubt craving something else and Getaway had a perfect fit. But tonight he was in the mood for something else. He pinched the corner of one of Rodimus’ small folds and rubbed it in-between his fingers. The mech squirmed under him but he never did react well to frottage. The larger mech rocked on his heels and with easy practice, sank into those soft lips. His spike nestled in easily; even without entering his capitan, Rodimus was still so welcoming and available and open.

He truly was adoring to his crew. 

Getaway moaned and gave a shallow thrust, his spike shifted forward a fraction of a micron and did another until his spike was nuzzled by Rodimus’ valve lips. The MTO moved his servo to the mech’s hip and dug his fingers into his seams; the speedster squirmed and Getaway bucked forward. 

His spike didn’t slide into Rodimus’ valve, but instead slid through his slick folds. The tip of his spike brushed his node and Rodimus let out a gaspy, low whine. The taller mech pushed through the smaller mech’s lips roughly and Getaway out a low groan and his fingers drifted across to Rodimus’ abdomen to splay his servo out across the plating. 

_Divine_ . He _truly_ was so lucky to have found Rodimus.

Getaway forced himself to slow and shivered at the sensation. His spike ached, but it was _much_ too early for him to overload - Getaway didn’t have many flaws but he was _well_ aware of the ones he did. He locked his hips for the moment and stared down, instead of taking a picture, he turned on video and reached out to touch. 

For a single moment, he slipped a finger into Rodimus’ cute valve, the mech squirmed invitingly and when Getaway slowly pulled out, the speedster’s hips followed. He pumped his finger again before he pulled out and used his free servo to dig and adjust the red folds instead. The body under him shifted and let out a low whine and Getaway could feel the vibrations from it race up his arm, he felt the gyros in his hips click and strain from the effort. 

Getaway focused the recording on his spike and how it was settled in the plush folds of the speedster’s valve, the tip was just peeking out and he could see bright lines of his pre-fluid mixing with Rodimus’ lubricant; It streaked down the sides of his valve and pooled under his aft. It was intoxicating and he purposely moved his spike just to see it glisten and shift.

Rodimus had finally gotten wet, _soaking_ actually, his small valve was flush and swollen and sweet, practically trapping Getaway’s spike, _begging_ him to enter that heat and _claim_. Getaway just dragged his fingers past the speedster’s entrance and spread him open with two fingers, making sure to focus and zoom in on the way Rodimus clenched on nothing.

Getaway did a slow pan up and took a long moment to appreciate and focus on Rodimus’ anterior node, it was a bright, shiny, sunshine yellow; Getaway would recognize it a mile away. He adjusted the nub to better face the camera and gave the bead a tiny pinch. Rodmus’ whole body shook like nothing before, it forced his fingers that much further down that intake and they both groaned. 

If Getaway hadn’t locked his hips before, he had no doubt he would’ve buried himself deep in his captain’s valve. Instead, he kept himself still, dropped his face into his pet’s neck and, when the tension lessoned, unlocked his hips and moved back into sweet nothings and reassurances as he frotted Rodimus.

“Shh, you’re okay. This is what you’re supposed to do, it’s what you were made for. You’re taking it so well, you’re doing such a good job. It’s okay, I’m so proud. Shh…”

During a particularly hard, dangerous thrust, his knuckles hit the underside of Rodimus' denta and the Getaway’s helm snapped up. He stared for a long moment and let out a slow, strained chuckle.

Slowly, he forced his spike out of those folds and shuttered as just the tip rested hidden in those folds. Rodimus shifted under him with a low sound, but he paid it no mind. He cut the video and at the count of three, he pushed himself back and groaned. Getaway grabbed the base of his spike and pressed deeply, it throbbed in response, but the last thing he felt like doing today was overloading into the cold air; why bother when he had a nice, convenient intake to use?

Reluctantly, he uncurled his fingers and slowly dragged them out of Rodimus’ mouth, grazing denta he did. They made an utterly _filthy_ sound when they popped out and Getaway cursed at cutting the recording early. 

His fingers were drenched to the strut, but he wiped the excess on Rodimus’ cheek and lower lip. The motion grabbed his attention; unsurprisingly, the speedster’s lips were puffy and swollen, and Getaway gave them another rough pinch. 

A quick shift knocked Rodimus’ head off the berth and, in a practiced motion, Getaway did a quick side step, switched his position, and buried his now-cold fingers into that warm valve. The mech gave a low groan and jostled but Getaway ignored it as he forced his fingers in to the knuckle. He gave an experimental twist and Rodimus squirmed. 

Getaway didn’t bother with words, even pointless words, and instead filled his field with relaxed calmness and let out a low hum; despite his collected tone, Getaway scrambled to the other side of the berth to line himself up. 

Being upside down was a good look on Rodimus, it forced his mouth the slightest bit open and he almost looked like he was about to speak; like he was going to welcome Getaway in with a quick grin and a teasing word. Or rant about the most inane slag on this side of the galaxy.

Either way, Getaway dismissed the thought as he pushed his spike against Rodimus’ lips. He froze and gave a low, luxurious groan as the tip sunk in. The MTO ran a soothing servo down the side of Rodimus’ helm before he forced himself to the hilt in a single motion. 

His spike sank in easily, as Rodumus’ intakes took it like it always belonged. The speedster shifted and made an unbecoming sound that nearly shattered Getaway’s control. He reached out and caressed the pretty cables that lined up the speedster’s intake; the bulge of his spike was outlined so cleanly that it was almost sinful and Getaway traced it with heavy fingers. 

Rodimus choked around him and Getaway gave out a low groan. His hips bucked forward and he traced the shape of his own spike again. 

“Oh _yes._ That’s it, Roddy. Good boy, you’re doing so well. Shh, I’m so happy right now. I’m so proud of you. Good job. Good boy.” His voice was rough, but Rodimus didn’t seem to care and Getaway gave another soft stroke down the side of his helm. 

For the next while, Getaway focused on tiny, shallow little thrusts and merely rocked into Rodimus’ throat; the idea of going full force on that delicate cabling was undeniable, but it always ended too soon when he did. Using Rodimus’ to keep his spike warm was a better use for tonight. He gave another rough pat to the outline of his spike and muttered half-sparked nonsense as Rodimus choked around him.

Getaway’s vents were steaming and Rodimus didn’t feel much cooler. The MTO reached his thumb out and snickered to himself and flicked the smaller mech’s node; the reaction was instant. Rodimus’ vents hissed and he jolted forward, It also made that intake twitch and squirm around his spike. Getaway did it again and then a third time gave a low, experimental thrust at the same time and moaned loudly. Nevermind what he said, change of plans. Rodimus was always good at trying his patience, but Getaway was nothing if not adaptable. 

He dug his thumb roughly into the yellow node and there was a low sound from Rodimus. Getaway’s servo gave another caress to the smaller mech’s overstuffed intake as his hips jerked forward; when he shoved, he could see the barest hint of his own spike tip. 

His optics focused on the way his spike pressed out against the abused cabling and Getaway slowed his thrusts. He reactivated his recorder and focused on Rodimus’ throat. Slowly, he pulled out of the smaller mech’s valve and reached out to grab his servo; it was limp and passive and Getaway draped it across Rodimus’ own throat. When he pitched his hips again, he could feel the extra pressure of Rodimus’ servo.

It wasn’t enough. 

Getaway’s blue servo nearly encapsulated Rodimus’ as he forced Rodimus to squeeze his own intake. The body under him jolted roughly and lubricant splattered across their plating from his servo and Getaway nearly fritzed on the spot. He got another thrust in before he pulled his servo back, shivering; amazing, truly amazing, befitting of Rodimus. But too much, for tonight at least. Getaway reached out and grabbed Rodimus’ servo, the palm was shiny with his own lubricant and the MTO focused in on the way that it dripped down his wrist and stuck to his fingers. 

He lightly placed the yellow servo back on the sheets and gave Rodimus’ node a rough swipe in apology. The mech twitched and Getaway wrapped his fist around that sleek intake once again. He gave it a quick squeeze and dropped his helm down with a long moan.

Slowly he released the tubing, cut the recording, and palmed the back of Rodimus’ helm. With ease of experience, Getaway adjusted his grip to cradle the other mech’s head. An experimental nudge showed that his grip was perfect to buffer Rodimus from slamming his head against the berth; the last thing he wanted to do was hurt Rodimus. Getaway knew just how something as small as minute dents could cause problems. 

After another experimental thrust, he picked up his pace; it was stuttering and erratic but despite how good Rodimus felt around him, it was barely Second shift and they had the rest of the night to themselves.

Getaway shuttered his optics and shimmied forward until Rodimus’ chin scraped his own panel. He took a deep vent and locked his hips, and instead directed his attention back to Rodimus’ valve to focus on his sunshine yellow node. 

He circled it with his thumb, drenching it in Rodimus’ own fluids, and when he gave it another sharp flick, Rodimus trembled. 

The MTO’s thumb pressed down roughly and he wormed his fingers back into Rodimus’ valve. The result was instant and the speedster arched under him and squirmed with gagged pants. It sent sparks down his own spike and Getaway relentlessly rolled his thumb in tight little circles. 

It didn’t take long - it never did. Rodimus’ whining raised a pitch but Getaway only added more pressure, more stimulation; and Rodimus overloaded with a flourish and a muffled sob. The response on his spike was _torture_ and Getaway couldn’t help but arch forward with him, bleeding static; automatically, his thumb kept sped up to extend and force Rodimus’ overload for another few kliks before he released it with a final, rough pinch.

Rodimus’ hips jerked again before he fell limp with a low sound that sent a wonderful echo of vibration trailing around his spike. The speedster’s venting was fast and staticy, and clogged, but it was still even and steady. 

Rodimus always slept deeper after a good overload. It was an easy and, of course, fun way to assure that he’d get some extra recharge; and really, it wasn’t as if Getaway saw himself as a cruel partner. 

The MTO could feel the residual minute trembling under him and he twisted his fingers deeper into the other mech’s valve. Lubricant dripped down past his fingers and pooled in his palm; how lovely, Rodimus really did so much for him. Getaway dipped his thumb in the mess and made another quick swipe over Rodimus’ node, the mech whined around his spike and shifted, but it left behind a pretty sheen that made the yellow nearly glow. Unable to resist, the taller mech circled the node again and _pushed._

The Speedster arched and jerked and Getaway let out a low groan as that slick intake spasmed around his spike. His fingers flexed across the back of Rodimus’ helm and Getaway jerked his hips forward the tiniest bit of room he had left. He was close, that wouldn’t do. He pulled out slowly until Rodimus’ lips were squeezed around the head of his spike. Getaway twisted his fingers one more time and Rodimus’ whine echoed through the habsuite.

“S-Shhh, you’re doing so good, Roddy. I’m so, hnn _so_ proud. Shh that’s it, good job. Just relax, like that. Just like that, yes. Good boy.” 

They had plenty of time after all.

**Author's Note:**

> PLEASE let me know If there are any triggers or tags that I missed.


End file.
